A Nice Girl to Settle Down With
by Hollywoodlover95
Summary: Jimmy promised Richard a girl & now he's found one. Rosslyn Harris is Angela's cousin & Tommy's Godmother. She comes to Atlantic City to help with Tommy after Angela's death. Richard falls in love with her but will his dark side drive her away? And what will happen once Owen notices his rival's new love? Can she survive the violence of the gangster life? Alt. ending to Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

"Aunty Ross, Aunty Ross!"

I stopped staring out at the night sky and took a moment to quickly wipe the tears from my eyes before I spun around and gave Tommy a smile.

"There's my boy!" I said, leaning down and letting him jump into my arms and wrap his small legs around me. I stood up and twirled around with him for a second, but I stopped to look at him. "Let me look at you. You're bigger than I remember…heavier, too."

"No, don't put me down!" He begged, grabbing onto me a little tighter.

I laughed. "No, no, I won't, I won't. Where's your daddy, huh?"

"Behind you," the unmistakeable voice of James Darmody resounded behind us.

I turned around, but I couldn't believe it. James was in a very bad way. His eyes were puffy and dark, he hadn't shaved…just everything about him was a mess. I slowly walked over with Tommy resting on my hip.

"Hello, Rosslyn," he said and kissed me on the cheek.

I turned to Tommy. "How about I put you to bed now, Tommy? I'll tell you a story, okay?"

Tommy shook his head. "No, song!"

"A song? Sure, Tom-Tom. But you have to go to sleep straight after. Deal?"

"Deal!"

I sighed and looked at James. "Can we talk after?" He nodded in response and I gave a small smile then presented Tommy to him. "Wanna give daddy a kiss goodnight?"

Tommy leaned over to kiss his father on the cheek and then quickly retracted back to me, urging me to hurry up and get him to bed.

I helped Tommy brush his teeth and I got him changed into his pyjamas and then finally into bed.

"Song, song!" He clapped impatiently, sitting and wriggling under the covers.

"Lie down or you'll get nothing," I warned him and he quickly obeyed. "Okay, let's think…uh…alright, got one," I cleared my throat and began to sing: "_If you were the only boy in the world_".

I finished the song and Tommy looked up at me, smiling, and I leant down and kissed his forehead. "Close your eyes."

"Aunty Ross…mama can't come back, can she?"

"No, but I wish she could. Don't think about it now, Tom-Tom, just think about horses and meadows and waterfalls and streams and big, big trees. Goodnight, Tommy. I love you," I said, giving him another kiss.

"Love you, Aunty Ross," he whispered back and then closed his eyes.

As I turned and got up, I got a shock when my eyes fell upon a face in the crack of the door. It was the face of a man, a strange face, but it was also very calm. Once the man realised I was looking at him, he seemed embarrassed, but his face never showed it.

"I didn't mean to scare you, mmm... you sing beautifully," his voice was husky and deep; a strange, handsome voice. I was about to ask his name, but he walked off before I could say anything.

I looked back at Tommy when I got to the doorway, sighed, turned off the lights and walked out, closing the door. James was talking to someone in the lounge, so I followed the voices and found him talking to that strange man from before.

James, standing with a glass of whisky in his hand, said, "Want some, Rosslyn?"

"No, thank-you," I replied and I walked over and sat down on one of the chairs next to the fireplace, the man in the third chair in front of the glass cabinets. Now that there was more light in the room, I could see his face properly.

It was obvious he was once a handsome man, and still was if you didn't count the masked side, with jet black hair and healthy, yet somewhat scarred, skin. I knew he was looking at me and, as soon as I looked back at him, he would turn his face to the side or look down at the floorboards.

"Oh, right, I forgot. Richard, this is Rosslyn Harris, Angela's cousin and Tommy's Godmother, and Rosslyn, this is Richard Harrow, my business partner. He stays with us," James explained, sitting down and making us all fit in a triangle.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Harrow," I said, nodding my hello.

Mr Harrow nodded back. "Tommy…he calls you Aunty?"

I smiled. "'Cousin once removed' is a bit of a mouthful… and Angela and I were closer than that anyway." At that, my smile faded and I turned to James. "What happened, James?"

James took another swig before answering. "A burglar shot her."

"Your nose just got longer."

James furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Pinocchio, you're lying to me. I see whisky, an expensive house and that you're armed. I can see what business you're in, and you dare sit there and lie to me about Angela," I said, staring him straight in the eyes.

"I didn't know school girls got an education on the liquor business," James replied coldly.

"Jesus, James, just tell me what happened."

"If you're smart enough to know what I do, then you can guess what happened, can't you?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was unbelievable. "I could, but I rather not guess because I don't like playing games with anyone but Tommy."

James just stared at me for a long moment, not at all intending to tell me the truth. He slowly got up and walked off to his room and called back: "It's late, Rosslyn, you should go to bed."

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I gave a small smile to the man sitting silently still left in the room. "Well, Mr Harrow, do you know where I'm sleeping?"

He responded by getting up and looking at me. "Come, I'll show you."

I followed him and he was about to pick up the bags I left near the front door, but I stopped him. "Please, don't trouble yourself. They're not that heavy."

"It's fine…I don't mind," he replied, avoiding eye contact and took my bags.

"Thank-you, then," I said as we resumed walking. He led me to a room just before the end of the hall and opened the room.

It was a mid-sized room with two single beds on either side, a mirror and a small window looking out at the beach. There were some old curtains held up in the centre, tied to each end of the room, making a sort of wall between both sides.

"I put new sheets on the bed for you," he motioned to the bed on the left side. "I imagined you to be much older and I thought, mmm…it wouldn't matter if we were sharing a room."

"Mr Harrow, I am fine sharing this room with you, but if you would like me to leave—"

"No, I don't mind. I just thought, mmm, you would be uncomfortable with…me," he said, still avoiding my gaze and it bothered me, but I just couldn't ask him about it.

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" I asked. "There's a curtain dividing us!"

"You must, mmm…not be used to seeing a face like mine."

I shook my head and fiddled with the curtain a little. "Your face does not bother me at all, if that's what you mean. A war wound, right? Well, all I can say is you were lucky not to have died."

He smiled at me and, for the first time looked me in the eyes, but only for a brief moment and then stood silent once more. I didn't really know what to do, so I feigned a yawn to at least break the silence.

"Goodnight, Mr Harrow, I'll see you in the morning," I said and he nodded and left the room.

As I lay in bed, I wondered what a strange man Richard Harrow was. The war had changed him, that was for sure but he still seemed a nice, young man. I didn't even hear him come back in and go to bed, I fell asleep that fast.

**NO ONE'S POV **

James had waited for Ross to leave the lounge to come back and pour him some more whiskey. He wished he could forget his pain with the brown liquid, but all it did was numb him and make him drunk. Even though Angela didn't love him, he loved her, loved her so much. Death was what he wanted; to be with her in Heaven. Who was he kidding? He'd never end up in that pious dump, he'd be in Hell and maybe she would be, too.

Richard came into the room and stood quietly while James drank his final drink for the night.

"Rosslyn," Richard said finally. "She seems older than she looks."

James hesitated for a second before answering. A happy memory came flooding back to him of Angela, Rosslyn, Tommy and himself together at the beach having a picnic. He began to stare in a dream-like state at the glass in his hand.

"Yeah, seems thirty when she's only… seventeen, eighteen? A kid anyway," he mumbled then looked at Richard, snapping out of his trance. "She's just finished school, you know. Angela was talking about inviting her up here to see the new place before…well, at least Tommy seems happier with her here."

"When is she, mmm, going home?" Richard asked, not knowing how to feel on that subject.

"I asked her to stay for a month, to look after Tommy and the house," James replied, rubbing his eyes.

Richard was a little confused. "I thought your mother would be looking after Tommy?"

James sighed, thinking about how his mother pulled his strings all his life; he didn't want that for Tommy. "_Ross_ is Tommy's Godmother, and my mother isn't. Anyway, ma spends enough time with him already and Tommy loves Ross…he would have fun."

Richard thought for a moment. "She is, mmm…a good person then?"

"Practically a saint," James said, standing up, swaying a bit as he did so. "Smart as hell, too."

"I heard her sing before."

"Yeah, yeah; she always sings to Tommy—only thing that guarantees he'll sleep."

"You didn't tell me she was pretty, Jimmy."

James furrowed his brow. "Was I meant to? Don't tell me you're embarrassed!"

"We're sharing a room; what if she sees my face?"

"So what if she does? Richard, she ain't the type that cares," he sighed and felt the need for sleep. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

James left Richard feeling blue. He was nervous around all women, but he always had the escape of living away from them. With Rosslyn, he felt an instant attraction, but how could he hide himself with her living with him?


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up at dawn, sweating, before everyone else. It was a warm morning, so I decided to take Tommy for a swim before breakfast. I undressed in the bathroom and put on a purple tie-dyed skirt and used my extremely long, white, cotton scarf I bought in India to, first, put behind my neck and then bring each end diagonally down, across my breasts, then tie up behind my back. It was not proper swim attire, but my time travelling around the world taught me that swimming with one of those heavy swim suits on does not help you in any respect.

I went to Tommy's room and dressed him in his swim suit, which was made to resemble a sailor's uniform. We stayed in the shallows in front of the house and splashed around for an hour before we came back up to the house. After drying off, I took him back into the house to have a breakfast of fresh fruit.

"Tommy, you're getting juice all over you!" I laughed. "Go wash your face now, please."

Tommy did as I asked and ran off to the bathroom, almost running into Mr Harrow passing through the doorway.

"Careful, Tommy!" I called after him and shrugged at Mr Harrow. "Kids; what can you do?"

Mr Harrow looked at me for a split second and then glued his eyes to the floor, blushing. His changing of the subject told me how uncomfortable he really was. "Good morning, Miss Harris. You have been, mmm…swimming?"

"Yes, with Tommy. It seemed too good a morning to waste. I'm sorry, would you like some fruit? Plenty left," I enticed him, getting up and offering him the platter of fresh fruit.

"No, thank-you…I do not feel hungry," he answered flicking his eyes back and forth between me, the floor and the fruit.

"Okay, but it is real good. Can I get you any coffee or tea?" I asked, putting down the plate.

He shook his head and I sat back down. "No, thank-you. Did you sleep well, Miss Harris?"

"I did, actually. But, please, call me Rosslyn—or Ross, I don't mind."

"Alright, mmm…Rosslyn. Call me Richard," he said and smiled, or at least that was what I thought he was doing.

I hesitated for a moment before speaking, not knowing whether I should say it or not. "You can't look me in the eye, can you?"

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to appear rude," he admitted, seeming to then get the courage to never look away from my eyes.

"I know you don't. I just hate not being able to look into the windows of the soul."

"_Window_," he smirked, sitting down. "I only have one… window."

I leaned forward and studied his real eye then smiled. "Well, your window is Goddamn lovely shade of green. I reckon if I didn't have brown eyes green would be my next choice. Such a peaceful colour it is."

"Peaceful? I don't feel at peace," he murmured.

I gathered my damp hair to one shoulder and combed it as I responded. "No one ever really is, I think. Everyone's got at least one problem in their life."

"What's your, mmm…problem?"

"Right now, it's James. He's so frustrating and…I'm sorry, I know you're loyal to him so I'm not gonna ask you questions."

"Thank-you. But, it's not just because of Jimmy…he's looking out for your safety by keeping you in the dark. Jimmy just wants you here for Tommy, not to know about anything else."

"I understand, Richard," I said and then I realised the mood was too serious. "I wanted to take Tommy along the Boardwalk today and have some fun; do you think James will let me?"

"I don't see why not. We have things to do today, so I'm sure you would be fine."

"Good, good, good!" I laughed, ate the last of the fruit and got up and put the plate in the sink. I came back to Richard and he was staring at my abdomen intently. "You've noticed I don't dress like other gals, haven't you?"

He was caught off-guard by my question. "Yes-but no, it's not what I…what's on your…?"

"My birthmark," I explained, standing right in front of him. "It's unusual to have a white mark, but I like it. It's unique, I guess."

"Yes, it is."

At that moment, Tommy came running back into the kitchen and into my arms. "The sticky is all gone!"

"I should wake James now," Richard sighed as he stood up and then walked away.

"Tommy," I said, standing over him. "Come on and we'll get you dressed. We're gonna play along the Boardwalk and then we're get some groceries—"

I froze when I heard the front door open and two men I had never seen before walk into the kitchen. There was a man who was blond, some kind of European descent but definitely non-Mediterranean, and wore a bowler hat with a brown suit, and another man who was short, a bit chubby and had his hair slicked back; very Italian. The first man had his eyes glued to my body and the second sized me up, looking at me with suspicion and then amusement. Both, however, made my skin crawl and I felt the need to cover myself with my towel and keep Tommy close.

"Richard!" I called quickly.

A second later he came running into the kitchen, saw them and came over to me. "It's alright…they're associates of Jimmy's," he explained and introduced them to me. "Mickey Doyle and Alphonse Capone…. this is Rosslyn Harris, Angela's cousin."

"Miss Harri_s_, pleased to make your _acquaintance_," Mr Doyle said, taking off his hat and then came over to me and shook my hand just a little too long.

"You, too, Mr Doyle," I replied unconvincingly, holding Tommy close like a shield.

Mr Capone nodded his greetings and then looked at Richard. "Isn't Jimmy up yet?"

"He's getting up now. Excuse us," Richard said and nodded at me, motioning me to join him.

I brought Tommy over and waited until we were in another room to speak. "What are they here for?"

Richard ignored me. "You should get dressed now, mmm… take Tommy to the Boardwalk."

"Sure…" I said, but I wasn't quite certain. "Come on, Tom, let's get dressed."

I took Tommy to his room first and got him changed into a nice short-sleeve shirt, brown shorts with suspenders and his brown boots with grey socks and a hat. I had him wait there for me while I went back to my room and put on a lilac skirt and a white blouse with mesh sleeves reaching to my elbow and a lace collar. I then put my hair up quickly into white sun hat and put on my white strapped heels.

I went back for Tommy and by that time James was walking around the lounge with the men in an undershirt, trousers and shoes. They all looked at me with Tommy as I walked by then James came over to me.

"We're just going to the Boardwalk, that's okay, isn't it?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. What time will you be back?"

"Three, four hours tops. I'll be bringing back groceries. Are you gonna be here for dinner?"

"I don't know."

"That's alright; I'm making cold borsht because of all this heat, so I'll leave it in the icebox in case you get hungry."

"Thanks," he said and pulled a key out from his pocket and handed it to me. "In case no one's home. I'll see ya later."

At that he gave Tommy a kiss on the forehead, and me one on the cheek, then we walked out of there. James only lived a short distance from the Boardwalk, so I was glad that Tommy wouldn't get exhausted by just walking there. There were so many people there even though it was such a hot day, but we just walked from one end to the other. I spoiled Tommy today; I bought him a new toy and some new cotton pyjamas.

I bought us some ice cream; Chocolate for Tommy, Strawberry for me. Tommy and I went and sat on the bench facing the ocean to eat it. He sat very close by me and I put an arm around his shoulder and smiled at him.

"Are you having a good day?" I asked.

He looked up at me with his wide eyes and nodded. "Yes, Aunty Ross…I like the ice cream and my new train…"

"Is anything wrong, Tom-Tom?"

He licked around his ice cream before responding. "I miss mommy…"

"Aw, sweetheart, I know you do. Don't worry; I'll take care of you from now on, okay? Your father and I will take care of you, so don't feel sad. I love you so much, you know that?"

"Uh-huh. I love you, too."

"Thank-you. You wanna try some strawberry?"

I cleaned up his face and we headed to the grocer. I bought a large bag of beets, cucumbers, a lemon, dill, some sour cream, and yogurt and then I went to the butcher for a chicken carcass for the stock. Tommy helped me carry some things on the way home, and when we got there at twelve-thirty, I was glad James had given me the key because no one was there.

I put the perishables in the icebox and then, because Tommy asked, we went swimming again (though this time I wore a traditional bathing suit). We swam for two hours and a bit then I gave Tommy a bath to get rid of all that salt water. After the bath, Tommy was exhausted so I sent him to be for half an hour while I had my bath. At three-forty I woke Tommy up and while he played with his toys, I made dinner. I finished dinner at six-forty-five and called Tommy to eat. James and Richard weren't home.

After two helpings of the soup, Tommy brushed his teeth and went to bed at about eight-fifty. I cleaned up the house a little and did the laundry while I waited for Richard and James to get back. Finally, at ten-thirty, I heard the door open, and I walked over from the laundry and saw it was them.

"Hey, Ross," James said, kissing my cheek with whiskey and smoke soaked lips. "Tommy asleep?"

"Ages ago. Do you want any dinner?"

"Yes, please, I'm starved," James slurred and walked to the dining room.

"And you, Richard?"

It took a long time for him to answer, like he was going through the pros and cons of eating. "Yes, mmm…thank-you."

I served them the borsht and sat down with them. James dug into it immediately and nodded at me.

"This is really good," he said and looked over at Richard, who hadn't yet had any. "Come on, Richard, eat!"

I shook my head at James. "He can eat when he wants to, I don't mind."

"No, no," James continued, obviously drunk. "He just gets a little self-conscious when he eats."

"Oh, I'm sorry; I'll leave the room—" I started, but James caught my wrist.

"No, Ross, stay. Richard, she won't care!"

I turned to Richard, who was blushing. "Don't trouble yourself…I'll go eat in the kitchen. Thank-you, mmm…for the food."

I nodded and sighed in understanding at Richard, and then turned my attention to James. "Why do your business associates come to your house before ten in the morning?"

"Because I had business to do."

"I can hear a smirk in your voice. I didn't like them here, James. I get this bad feeling from them, they're not good people, I can tell."

"That's funny because they seemed to like you, especially Doyle."

"Doyle? That blond creep?!"

"Yeah, he wanted to ask you out and I told him ta take a hike."

"Thank-you," I smiled.

"But, uh," James continued. "I'd watch out—about Doyle. I mean, I told him 'no' for you, but he's an ignorant bastard, so I reckon he'll ask you personally."

"I'd never go on a date with that man. He seems…I dunno, slimy," I replied, cringing.

"Who would you go on a date with, Ross?"

"Why on earth would you like to know, James?" I laughed.

"Come on, how old are you now? Seventeen, eighteen—?"

"Eighteen in three days. What about it?"

"And you've never been on a date, never had a sweetheart?"

I rolled my eyes slightly. "No, I haven't, and I repeat: What about it?"

"Well, why not?" This was not James speaking but the alcohol he had drunk using his mouth. "It's not like you're ugly."

"Thank-you…I think. Anyway, I've never had a sweetheart because those _boys_ are only interested in one thing. I don't want those types of guys, okay? I just want a nice _man_, who respects me, to settle down with. Now, stop asking me questions, go to bed and sleep off the whiskey."

He looked at me angrily, but it wasn't serious anger. "I was tired anyway. I'll see you in the morning," he said and went into the kitchen to say goodnight to Richard. Once he shut the door to his room I collected his bowl and headed to the kitchen.

Then I remembered Richard was there, so I called out before I entered. "Can I come into the room, Richard?"

"Just a second," he called back and I waited til I heard him again. "Yes…come in." I did and I smiled at him as I collected his bowl and spoon. "I enjoyed the meal. Thank-you again."

"You're welcome," I replied, yawning and turning on the faucets, but Richard got up and stood beside me, somehow moving me out of the way.

He looked down at me. "No, I'll do it; you're tired."

"Oh, you're too kind, Richard," I said and sat down in the adjacent lounge.

"How was your day?" He asked, already drying the dishes.

"Good. And yours?"

"Good. Tommy…behaved himself?"

"Yeah, he's a good kid, but I wish I was here with him under different circumstances."

"I know. I liked Angela very much," he said, walking over to me and sitting in the chair next to me. "But, may I ask, how did you become Tommy's Godmother? You're so young."

"My parents bribed the local church," I replied and laughed. "Angela was so adamant to have me as Godmother, so my parents… bribed the church." I saw him smile, and in my tired daze I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. "You're so handsome when you smile."

Richard abruptly stopped smiling and looked at the floor. "You're tired, you don't know what you're saying."

"Don't say that," I said, putting my hand on his forearm. "Just because I'm tired doesn't mean I'm lying."

He looked back at me, his eye too scared to look above my mouth, and put his own hand on mine. "I heard you talking with Jimmy before."

"And?" I asked, turning my hand over under his, so I could hold his hand.

He gave one small smirk. "I'm glad you don't like Doyle."

I stroked his thumb and chuckled. "I know. I could never even be friends with a guy like him. You, on the other hand, I can see myself having a friendship with."

He looked into my eyes to answer. "Why?"

"Because you have such nice hands," I said, making his palm face upwards so I could stroke it with my fingertips. "I mean it; I really love your hands. Oh, and also you're intelligent and quiet…gentle."

Richard gazed down at our hands together and then looked back at me with a look, which I thought meant he was uncomfortable with me, so I quickly retracted my hand. "I'm sorry. You barely know me and I'm…playing around with your hands. I do things like that a lot, I'm sorry."

"No, mmm…it's fine. Would you…would you like to go for a walk tomorrow with me?"

"I would love to, Richard," I smiled and got up from the chair. "I'm going to bed, are you?"

"Soon."

"Okay. Let's hope we get any sleep from all this heat," I said, walking away, but then I stopped and turned back to Richard. "If it's hot again tomorrow, I'll go swimming again at about six-thirty in the morning. Would you like to join me?"

He seemed to be weighing his options again. "I don't have a bathing suit."

"Well, I have a bathing suit and I don't wear it. Just wear your underwear; there'll be no one on the beach at that time of the morning. If you're up at that time, come; if not, I'm not gonna hold it against you."

"Okay…I'll try. Goodnight, Rosslyn," he said, nodding.

I waved my hand at him. "Goodnight, Richard."

When I was in bed, I couldn't help but think about Richard a little. I knew he was James' friend and partner, but he seemed so different to him. He was so polite and respectful of me…I just couldn't get over it. I really couldn't wait til morning.


	3. Chapter 3

The heat was relentless through the night and into the morning. I got changed quickly behind the curtain, before my sweat made the bathing clothes I wore yesterday sticky against my skin.

"Richard?" I whispered, loud enough for a person already awake to hear yet quiet enough for a person sleeping to keep sleeping. "Are you up?"

"Yes," he answered back through the curtain.

I smiled and went back to my regular voice. "Are you decent?"

"Yes."

That was my cue to come around to his side of the room and see him. He was wearing an undershirt and dark grey shorts, ready to swim. "How long have you been up?"

"A little while…I didn't want to say anything when you were getting changed," he replied, standing up and taking a step toward me.

"Oh," I blushed. "Thanks. Ready to go?"

He nodded then followed me out the door and then the house to the beach. I knew we couldn't go in deep because his mask would make him feel uncomfortable in the water. His feet touched the water and he recoiled a bit.

"Don't worry, Richard," I said, taking his hand in mine. "It's not that cold."

He nodded back to me and we walked into the water together til the water was at our waists. I dived under for a moment and came back up to find him staring at me. I splashed a bit of water on him and ran my fingers through his hair, then fell back into the water and bobbed about.

"Isn't the water great?" I asked him when he bobbed with me. "Wanna go out a little further?"

He gave me another nod and we went out to where the water was his shoulders and above my head, but I kept treading water and moving about. I went under a couple times and touched his cheek a lot to keep his face nice and cool.

"You swim a lot?" Richard asked, looking down at me hanging onto his shoulder.

I chuckled. "Yes, I love swimming!"

"Why?"

"Well," I began, rubbing his hair again. "I used to dream I was a bird and that I could fly everywhere, but as much as I wished it to be so, it never happened...Then, one day, my father said I should try to be a fish, so I gave it a go and I realised I could swim, I could swim everywhere I wanted. That's why I like swimming so much—because I can transform myself!"

"Into a fish?" He asked, puzzled, while I swam behind him.

"Yes!" I said, using his shoulders to boost my very small jump into the air.

He turned around and smiled. "You are very, mmm…imaginative."

"I suppose so. I was raised on fairy tales, so I should be. You read any fairy tales?"

"Rapunzel…"

"The girl with the long hair, trapped in a tower—one of my favourites."

"Little Red Riding Hood…"

"A-ha, anything else?" I asked, swimming around him.

He paused for a moment and replied softly. "Beauty and the Beast."

I stopped right in front of him and frowned. "I hate that one."

"Why?"

"Because the Beast wasn't a beast at all; he was a handsome prince. It ruins the story completely. It should have been that the Beast stayed a beast because she didn't really love him in that form, and I believe she only ever truly loved him when he turned into a prince. That Beast was her servant and gave her everything, and would have died for her, so that should have been enough for her to see: 'Oh, he loves me and wants to make my dreams come true, so I love him in return' but no!" I said, raising my voice a little. "I'm sorry, I ramble a lot."

He touched my shoulder. "No, it's fine. I never thought about it that way."

"Yeah, that's my frustration with fairy tales," I replied and sighed. "Wanna swim back?"

"Alright," he said and turned to me as we were treading back. "You never said what your favourite fairy tale was."

"Oh, I can never decide. Do you have one?"

"I like The Steadfast Tin Soldier."

"Yeah, that one is all about true love. When I was a child," I said and gathered my tie-dyed skirt up to my knees to walk more easily in the waist high water, Richard holding my hand all the while. "I used to cry when my father read that the soldier and ballerina died—so to speak—in the fire together…but then I got over it…I knew they would always be together….Richard, you've gone awfully quiet."

We were now in water barely reaching our knees and he had not spoken but, when I remarked this, he turned to face me. His uncovered face expressed a sort of sadness and, though he wasn't the type to cry, I could tell he was feeling as if he were.

I placed my hand on his cheek and looked right into his eye. "Whatever's the matter?"

Richard didn't answer me but kept walking with my hand in his, taking me back inside the house and back into our shared room. Once inside he shut the door and held me against the wall.

"Richard?" I asked, not scared but curious.

"Please…close your eyes," he told me and I did. "Don't open them."

"What's going on?" I asked, but there was no answer.

All of a sudden I felt his lips against mine and his hands on my hips. I felt that his lips were only half there, that the side of his mouth that was usually covered had no lips…but I didn't care. I put my hands on either side of his face and kissed him back. There were so many craters on the left side of his face, but I knew that was to be expected. Richard's whole body was against mine, now cupping my face in his beautiful hands. My hands moved all over his strong arms and back, wanting him closer to me than ever before.

When his hands moved from my face to my shoulders and seemed to be trying to go lower, I stopped him. "Stop; we're going too fast," I whispered breathlessly.

My eyes opened and for the first time I saw his whole face. I couldn't help but keep feeling sorry for him once I realised there was much more damage than I felt. He tried putting his mask back on but I stopped him.

"No, Richard, you don't need that with me anymore," I told him, taking his hand in mine.

"I'm sorry, Rosslyn," he murmured, his head hung.

I lifted his face up to look at me. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did, mmm…I tried to touch you."

"What?!" I laughed. "You just got a little carried away is all. It's not like you kept going after I said 'stop', so no more apologies from you."

He kissed me again, but this time it was only a peck.

Richard put his hands on my hips and drew me nearer to him, so I put my arms around his neck. "Do you…love me, Rosslyn?"

"I'm not sure; I've never been in love before! I don't know much about you either, Richard. Why, do you love me?"

He nodded. "Very much, yes."

"Are you sure? Is that even possible?"

Richard's hand went back to my face and brushed his fingers across my cheek. "It's possible."

"I don't know what to say, Richard…" I said, taking his hand off my face slowly. "I'm just a little overwhelmed by all this—"

I was interrupted by a quick knock on the door. "Aunty Ross?"

"Yes, Tommy?" I asked all the while looking at Richard.

"I'm hungry," Tommy groaned back.

"Okay, I'll make you breakfast then. You go to the kitchen and I'll be right there," I told him and I heard him walk off. I looked back at Richard. "Could we talk about this later, Richard?"

His eyes moved from me to the floor and back again before responding. "Not too late…"

I reached for his face and brought him forward to give a small kiss to again. I stepped back and then left the room, going to the kitchen to make Tommy breakfast.

I made Tommy some quick scrambled eggs and I still had enough to feed Richard and James. I was so nervous I couldn't even imagine myself eating. James came into the room and I almost screamed.

"James, what happened to your shoulder?" I asked, inspecting the bandaged wound when he was close to me.

He put a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. "Don't worry about it, Ross."

I put my hand on my hip. "So you're not gonna tell me?"

"What do you think?"

"Okay, okay, but I need to talk to you about something. Can you come outside with me?"

James and I sat outside on the porch, him smoking and me twiddling my thumbs. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"It's Richard. He and I went for a swim this morning and…we kissed," I told him and he just laughed. "Why is this amusing?"

"I'm not laughing 'cause it's funny, I'm laughing 'cause it's a good thing," James explained.

"Yeah, but I wasn't finished. He told me he loved me and I don't know how to feel about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I like him but I'm not sure I love him. I don't even know him! Is he a good guy? What do I do?"

"Why are you asking me all this?"

I frowned sadly. "I would have asked someone else but they're not here."

James nodded and took a break from his cigarette to answer me. "Richard's a good guy, alright, but the War did something to him. He's always wanted a nice girl to settle down with, and he'll treat you right. Have you seen him without his mask yet?"

"Yeah."

"Did you care?" He asked and I shook my head. "Then you'll get along fine."

"Okay, I'll give it a go. Can you tell him I'll be his sweetheart for me?"

"Why do I have to do it?"

"I'm so nervous. Please, James?"

"Alright, I'll tell him."

"Thank-you!" I squealed and kissed his cheek.

"It's alright. Now can you put some clothes on?"

"Sure! Breakfast is on the stove," I laughed and went back inside the house.

Richard was in the kitchen with Tommy and I smiled when I looked at him. I went back to my room and put on a powder blue, lace blouse and my blush pink skirt. I decided to leave my long hair out for the time being and then I went back into the kitchen.

Richard and James had just come back inside from talking, and by the expression on Richard's face, I knew he had been told. Needless to say, he made me blush. I sat down at the table and they joined me. Richard sat closely beside me.

"So," I asked. "What are we all doing today?"


	4. Chapter 4

Again today James and Richard had some business to do, and Tommy's grandmother wanted to spend the day with him. I, on the other hand, had nothing to do but walk along the Boardwalk again and do whatever I wanted. Before leaving, Richard said he would walk with me.

He and I walked side-by-side under the warm sun. I didn't know what to say to him, and neither did he it seemed, but we just kind of took long glances at each other and smiled shyly until he took my hand in his.

"What…will you do today?" He asked.

"I don't know, but I'll probably come back sooner rather than later," I said and looked up at the sky. "The humidity seems to be building…should rain any day now. Do you have any preferences for dinner tonight?"

"No, mmm…I am happy to eat whatever you want to make."

"You're really too sweet," I said, hugging his arm.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said, stepping with me onto the Boardwalk.

I laughed. "Stop it!"

He stopped with me on the corner of the greengrocer, and I put my arms around his neck for him to kiss me. We smiled, I kissed his cheek and then ended our embrace. He slowly let my hand go while he walked away.

Once I saw he was a good twenty or so meters away, I turned away to check what produce I could buy, but my eyes caught a man staring at me from the other end of the grocer. Quickly, I cast my eyes down and checked on the watermelon—maybe for dessert?

The man walked over to me slowly, subtly, until he was standing three feet beside me. I was just about to walk away when he spoke to me.

"Hope you don't mind me sayin' you have the prettiest smile I've ever seen," he said in a thick Irish accent.

I decided to play a trick on him, so I gave a confused smile. "Je ne parle pas anglais."

"You can't play that one on me, girlie," he said, chuckling. My ignorant façade fell from my face and I walked over to the other end of the table, but he followed. "Come on, I just wanted to give you a compliment."

"No hablo Inglés!"

"Please, I didn't mean to offend you," he said, following me around the table.

"Non parlo inglese!"

"You either speak a lot of languages, or just learnt the one phrase from each to keep people away from you. Which one is it?"

"It's whatever one that stops you from bothering me further."

He smiled. "Finally, you speak my language. I'm Owen Slater," he said and put his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm not caring," I said, and looked down at his hand until he put it away.

"Pleased to meet you Miss Caring."

"What a tasteless joke. You've not only wasted my time but you've also embarrassed yourself. Please stop," I said, walking with him following me out of the greengrocer's.

"You're a sharp one!"

I abruptly stopped and faced him. "Mr Slater—"

"You _do_ remember my name," he grinned.

"I believe it is now my duty to inform you that I am romantically involved with someone else."

"I already figured that, miss. I saw you kissin' him before."

I frowned. "Then why—?"

"Did I make advances toward you? Like I said before: you have the prettiest smile I've ever seen. May I take you out to dinner tonight?"

"You have a lot of confidence, I'll give you that," I said, stopping at the rails to look out to sea. "But I would never consider going behind his back. More importantly, I find you far too vulgar."

"What do you mean 'vulgar'?" He asked, leaning his elbow on the rails and still smiling at me.

"I mean, Mr Slater, that I do not like how you knew I was with someone but still continued to ask me out to dinner."

"A lot of girls like gettin' attention from men, even if it's not their beau."

"Well, I don't. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some shopping to do," I said and started walking away but grabbed my wrist.

"I didn't excuse you," he explained.

"Mr Slater, 'if you will excuse me', as I'm sure you know, is just a figure of speech meaning: 'I am going to leave you now' in a polite tone," I explained back to him. "Now, _if you will excuse me_, I have had enough of our conversation."

Straight away I turned my heel and walked briskly away, but he continued walking beside me.

He tsked at me. "That wasn't a very polite way of excusin' yourself."

I kept my eyes fixed on the horizon in front of me. "It really wasn't meant to be. Go away."

"What's your name? I bet it has a nice ring to it."

"I don't believe there is any point in telling my name to a stranger, especially one I will never meet again."

"Can I guess then?"

I gave him a sharp look. "Please don't."

"Alright, I'll not guess your name—even _I_ know that's too hard—but I can guess your age, can't I?"

"It's impolite to guess the age of a lady, Mr Slater."

"Didn't you already think I was vulgar?" He asked slyly. "I'll guess about…nineteen? You tell me whether it's higher or lower."

"I will not!" I yelled at him, and spied from the corner of my eye a policeman walking along the Boardwalk. "Mr Slater, I have had enough of your impropriety for today. If you do not leave me right now, I will call the police over."

I waited for a moment for him to leave, but all he did was raise his eyebrows, daring me to call the policeman, and so I did.

"Officer!" I called, taking a few steps forward with Mr Slater still beside me.

The officer in his brown uniform came trudging over to us. "Is there a problem, miss?"

I sighed with relief. "Yes, thank-you, officer. This man has been following me along the Boardwalk, harassing me. Please, officer, help me."

Once the policeman took his first glance at Mr Slater, the stern expression melted off his face and he seemed to recognise him. The officer looked back at me for a split second and then walked on by.

"Wait!" I called, but the officer didn't respond. I looked back at Mr Slater suspiciously, knowing I was stuck with him. "Who are you?"

"I already told you my name," Mr Slater replied.

"You know what I meant. Who are _you_ to drive police officers away?"

"I know people in high places."

I was so frustrated that I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. "How much money would it take for you to go away?"

"I'm not interested in your money. All I wanted was your name."

"Forget it!" I said, storming off.

"We're running out of boardwalk!" He laughed, keeping up with my pace. "Just give me a name, and I promise I will leave you alone."

I stopped in my tracks and relented; I didn't want him to keep following me for the rest of the day. "Miss James."

"Is that your real name?" He asked, but it was clear he already knew the answer.

"Miss Harris."

He didn't seem very happy with this new answer. "Not even a first name?"

I smiled in my small victory. "You said 'a name', not specifying whether it should be my first or last. That's your fault for using the wrong words. Anyway, I told you 'a name', now do as you promised to do and leave me alone."

He shook his head at me. "You are cruel, Miss Harris."

I raised an eyebrow.

"And, yes, I shall leave you now. Good day."

Mr Slater nodded his head and walked away from me. I sighed, thanking God it was over, and went into the candy shop. I bought some toffee for everyone at the house to share, and then because of the heat, I bought a shaved cherry ice. After checking out almost every store, I got bored… and it was only ten-thirty. I decided to go back to the greengrocer's to pick the ingredients for lunch and tonight's dinner.

Parked outside the front of the house there was a light blue automobile, and when I was about ten or so meters away from the house, a man stepped out from behind it.

It was Mr Slater.

He looked at me, totally confused. "What are you doin' here, Miss Harris?"

"I'm temporarily living here. What are _you_ doing here? Where's James?"

"Mr Darmody is inside speakin' with my employer," he said, and then noticed my grocery bags. "Do you want me to help you put them down?"

"Why? Can't I go inside?"

Mr Slater winced slightly. "It's kind of a private meetin'."

"Is your boss in the liquor business too?"

He ignored my question. "You seem like a good girl. What's your connection to Darmody? Your man's his friend?"

"It's more than that," I said, laying the bags on the porch then taking a few steps back. "He's my late cousin's husband."

His brow furrowed. "Angela Darmody was your cousin?"

"Yes and her son is my godson. I'm here to look after him and his father for a while."

"My condolences then."

"Thank-you, Mr Slater."

"Call me Owen, miss."

"Let's not get that friendly, Mr Slater. I know James is involved in illegal activities, and so any private meetings he may have cannot be with very nice, law abiding people. If your employer isn't a very wholesome person, don't you think I'd be suspicious of you?"

"You really _are_ sharp, aren't you?"

I nodded. "I try my best. Tell me, what does James do exactly?"

"Why? Doesn't he tell you?"

"Of course not, he thinks he'll corrupt me or something, which is contradicted when he offers me whiskey. I just want to get an idea of how far this all goes with him. I mean, I think Angela's death was a consequence of his involvement in liquor, but only you can tell me if my suspicions are valid."

Mr Slater took a few steps closer to me and looked down at the ground, frowned, and then looked back at me. "Quite frankly, Jimmy Darmody is a gangster, Miss Harris. Your cousin's death was a _direct_ consequence of him not payin' back the right man. There are others like him that want him dead, and to take over the liquor supply he has. Every bad feelin' you get from him, trust it."

"And every bad feeling I get from you?" I asked.

"Miss, it wouldn't be strange to get a bad feelin' from everyone in Atlantic City, if you didn't, then you'd be in real danger."

I smiled in some kind of slight admiration. "I take it your employer and James are rivals, then?"

He didn't say anything but I could tell what he meant.

"And that means you didn't start speaking to me by mistake, it was because of Richard, James' friend, that you did," I said and he nodded. "I also take it that I should not be talking to you?"

He smirked. "It would seem proper if we didn't."

"But then again, you are so vulgar; what do you care about proper?" I asked, jokingly, and then put out my hand to Mr Slater. "My name's Rosslyn, by the way, and I'm not nineteen."

He shook my hand, frowning with confusion. "Eighteen?"

"Soon."

His eyes widened in shock. "Seventeen? Well, I at least knew your name had a nice ring to it. Does this mean we're on good terms now?"

I pulled back my hand and shook my head. "Definitely not. This is just because you're the only one who's been truthful to me."

"You know, it _was_ because of your man that I spoke to you, but it also really was your nice smile."

"What can I say? My parents denied me sugar, this is the result."

Owen laughed, but then he stopped abruptly when he heard the door open behind him. Out of the house came an older gentleman who was skinny—I would weigh more than him—wearing a beige, plaid suit. The man looked at me briefly and then kept his eyes to the horizon, heading towards the car.

"I'd better be goin'. It was a pleasure meetin' you, Rosslyn Harris," Owen said with a cheeky grin. "I'll see you around."

As he walked to the car, I walked to the porch, collected the groceries and went inside to find James waiting for me inside.

"Who was that?" I asked with him following me into the kitchen.

"Don't concern yourself, Ross," James said, heading for the bar.

I sighed and shook my head. "I really wish you wouldn't drink anymore today."

He turned his whole upper body just to narrow his eyes at me. "Who are you, my mother?!"

"If I was your mother, I would have kicked you out of home by now. I'm asking you nicely, James; please don't drink anymore tonight?"

The crystal jar he was holding moved slowly back to the table it had been on. "Only 'cause you asked nicely. Don't expect me to do it every time."

"Yes, I know, thanks. Where's Richard?"

"He'll be back later, don't worry."

Richard wasn't back later. He missed lunch, and I thought nothing of it, so I continued with housework…then he missed dinner, and that was when I became a little worried. James collected Tommy, and put him to bed rather quickly. It was eleven o'clock when I finally decided to get myself to bed, so I let my hair out, washed my face and put my nightie on. I tried to sleep for half an hour, but it was just…too hot. There was a book I brought with me underneath my bed, so I decided to read until my eyes hurt. I was only two chapters in when the door opened and Richard came in.

"Hey, Richard," I said, smiling and I put my book down. "I was getting worried. Where were you?"

He took his jacket off and went behind the curtain while he answered. "I was…running errands. Why would you be, mmm…worried?"

"Well, I've heard A.C is pretty dangerous. I'd be very upset if anything happened to you."

"You shouldn't worry about me," I heard him say behind the curtain. "You…cannot sleep?"

"Who can in this heat?" I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "This room is stuffy, too. How have you slept here the last few weeks?"

"Not very well," he joked and gave a small laugh. "The air outside is better than in here."

"Do you want to go outside with me then? Just for a little while, I mean," I said, standing up and facing the curtain.

"Sure…" he replied, and pulled back the curtain to reveal him wearing cotton pyjama pants and an undershirt without socks or shoes.

I smiled and took his hand. "Wow, you're fast."

He smiled back at me and we walked out the door and continued out of the house. We turned the lights on for the back porch facing the sea, and then we sat down to listen to the waves crash onto the shore.

"Oh, isn't that nice? The air, the sea…just…so beautiful," I sighed, exhaling the fresh sea air.

I looked back at Richard and saw him staring at me. I smiled and moved closer to him so there was only an inch of space between us. His right arm came around my back while his left came around my front to hold me close, and I responded my resting my legs across his lap to make our positions more comfortable.

"Would you like to take your mask off?" I asked, placing my arms around his neck.

He didn't even say a word back, just undid his mask with one hand and placed it on the other side of him. I immediately took advantage of the situation and kissed him. Richard was a little surprised at first but then he kissed me back with much more vigour than he had before.

I realised I didn't know much about Richard, but when we were together—when we spoke and when we kissed—I knew it was a good thing. There was something about him, something sensitive and hidden, that I was attracted to. When he said he loved me, there was not an ounce of deceit in his voice, and I knew that was very rare to find.

My nightgown was loose, so I put my hand on Richard's and guided it to my shoulder, and then underneath the front of the gown to my chest. He stopped kissing my mouth and instead kissed and nuzzled my neck while he fondled my breast.

"Richard…" I breathed into his ear, gently taking his wrist. I had forgotten myself, but it was just another consequence of being with him.

He stopped leaning over me, and while he was staring at me, I moved his hand back to his side, which was easy because he didn't even notice I was touching him. I took my legs off him and gave him a peck on the cheek to let him know that everything was fine.

"I think that's enough excitement for one night," I whispered, getting up. "We should probably go to bed now."

Richard collected his mask and stood up. He said nothing as he opened the door for me and escorted me back to our room. As soon as he was in the room he pulled the curtain to one side of the room, and pushed my bed over to his so they made one large bed.

I smiled with confusion. "What are you doing, Richard?"

He didn't answer me, but instead put his mask down on his bedside table and sat on the beds. He held out his hand for me and I obliged him. Richard pulled me down to lie beside me and hold me in his arms.

"Wait, wait…" I said, putting a little space between me and him. "I can't—"

"I know. I don't want that."

"May I ask what you do want?"

"I want to hold you…in my arms," he said, unconsciously nodding while he spoke. "I want you, mmm…next to me, to feel you beside me."

"That's so sweet, but can I trust that you mean nothing else?" I asked. He nodded in response and I rested my head on his chest. "Alright then, Richard. Hmm, I can hear your heartbeat!"

"What's it sound like?"

"Like a little drum. It's at a good pace—not slow, not fast—and your breathing makes me think a little old man is sleeping inside you, snoring very loudly."

"Very…imaginative," he said, stroking my arm.

"Thanks. You said that once before," I smirked, my hand sliding under his undershirt. He seemed to tense up a little when I did it, but he soon relaxed. I knew he had strong arms, but now I realised he had been hiding strong core muscles as well. As my hands moved along his torso, I felt raised scars; scars I knew he had gotten from the War.

"What would you say…if I asked you to marry me?"

"Are you asking, or are you being hypothetical?"

"Hypothetical."

I shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Why _would_ you want to marry me?"

"Mmm, because you...make me happy."

"Richard, the same goes for me, too, but…if you were to really ask me, I'd say that I know nothing about you. If you were to tell me something about yourself—family, friends, interests, experiences— just anything, my answer would change to 'maybe'."

"Family…" Richard began, and I looked up at him. "I have a twin sister. Her name is Emma."

"Tell me more about Emma."

"She took care of me after I was…injured. She's married and has two children."

"She sounds like a nice person, just like you."

"Yes, she is. Do you have any brothers, sisters?"

"I have an older brother named Samuel; he's twenty-eight and has a wife and twin girls. I once had _three_ older brothers, but John and Alexander died."

"What happened to them?" He asked, tightening his embrace.

"John died in the trenches, aged twenty-two, and Alex killed himself just after the war ended, aged nineteen. Alex was my favourite."

"Tell me more about Alex," he said, copying me from before.

"He was the only one of us to have blond hair, and he had a great laugh," I remembered, but my heart sank, thinking of his final days. "When he came home from France, you could tell he was a different man. He, uh, couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, kept shaking and waking up with these terrible cold sweats—his blankets were soaked through. Mother and father didn't know what to do. I tried nursing him back to health but, you know, how could I mend a mind? Alex confided in me before he died. He told me about the diseases and vermin in the trenches, going over-the-top, the shells exploding so close that you're deaf till the next day…It was horrible."

"Yes, it was, mmm…he couldn't handle it. It was his decision."

"I know, but still…" I said sadly.

He nudged me to look at him. "I think it is best not to dwell on the past."

I kissed his bicep. "Angela must have really liked you."

Richard smiled and I looked into his eye, and at the missing half of his face. I felt so silly. Though I'd never liked a man before, I knew I liked Richard. I laughed out loud at my realisation.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"To you and Tommy, I am Dr Jekyll, but to everyone else I am this…Mr Hyde. You ever feel that way?"

"Yes, I am…Frankenstein's monster."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "That's how you feel? Why?"

"My face, my…speech…my scars," he said.

"You may think that looks are everything, but that is absolutely not true. If that were the case, a lot of men and women would die alone. You are intelligent, strong—yet surprisingly sensitive— and also kind and a genuinely beautiful man. Any woman would be lucky to have you, believe me, Richard."

There was a small silence before Richard moved a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Did I tell you enough?"

"Is this still hypothetical?"

"No."

"Richard, I'm outspoken, I sometimes swear, I laugh and sing at inappropriate times, I support women's equality and…I don't really remember what else, but the main thing is I am not very conventional. I understand if you w—"

Before I could finish my sentence, he kissed me. "No," he said, breaking from the kiss. "You are, mmm…perfect. Marry me."

I laughed. "I'm not, really I'm not."

"You said if I told you something, it would…change your answer."

I nodded. "Alright, that was a fair deal. I will say 'maybe', but don't get your hopes up; it just means I will take it under great consideration. Come on, let's go to sleep. No more talk of marriage tonight."

He kissed my hair and let me turn away from him to rest. The grip he had on me relaxed and we both finally fell asleep despite the heat.


End file.
